


goodwill

by everything555everything



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Study, Charity stores, Drabble, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everything555everything/pseuds/everything555everything
Summary: Caduceus finds a donated jacket. Written directly after Episode 30.





	goodwill

**Author's Note:**

> i have a lot of feelings about grave clerics and caduceus clay. please enjoy this drabble written less than an hour after episode 30.  
> this takes place in an ambiguous modern AU, interpret it as you'd like

Mr. Clay has bought himself a new tea set.

  
It’s strange having friends. Having friends, being here in this city, actually… travelling. The faded old church of his forefathers is a week’s drive from here. There’s no one left back there. Like all of Caduceus’ interests, its life cycle has come and gone.

  
He moves to the next long rack of clothes. His height has made navigating the store difficult; having to lean down to inspect all of the donated fabrics. His fingers keep brushing the plastic coat hangers they all droop from. It’s unpleasant.

  
Caduceus has on him the clothes he left in and his travel pack. Tucked away are several new expensive boxes of tea. He’s liking this whole “spending money,” thing, now that he has money to spend. It’s a wondrous concept. He likes his new friends too, with their stolen minivan. They’ve all decided to head west, to the coast, in search of more money. All of these small paper slips now lining his pockets seem to run much of the larger world.

  
He supposes he’ll find out why eventually. For now there is a much simpler task at hand: lighter clothes. He’s been assured that near the ocean the weather gets much hotter, and advised to shed some of the nice homemade scarves and finger-knit wraps that he used to keep the chill out. Caduceus isn’t sure he’s got the space for his old clothes, but that’s alright. Maybe he’ll donate them here. As far as he can tell, this place is an endless cycle, things being taken and given, taken and given.

  
It’s beautiful. Caduceus hums to himself happily and picks out a light cream-colored shawl from the rack. Maybe he can use its pockets for any moss along the way. He folds it over his arm.

  
All the plastic things can be avoided, but he still has to return the hanger to the bar, the one that should be metal, but seems to light to be so. His nails scrape over the bright paper that covers part of the hanger and he winces, dropping it.

  
Caduceus sighs and crouches the long way to the carpet. It’s bounced to the other side of the aisle, and he’s about to stand up before the glitter catches his eye.

  
There’s a faded jean jacket crumpled on the floor. He drags it out slowly.

  
Wanting things is new. In his own quiet corner of the world, he had desired things, sure. But those things were more related to the weather, or the birds, or how his garden was producing. What he was given he took; what he didn’t have he didn’t miss.

  
Caduceus studies the jacket. It doesn’t look all that old, yet it’s clearly well-loved. There are small silver spikes on either shoulder. The broad back is covered in patches, the largest of which is maroon with designs of arrows and crescents. It reads: CARNIVAL OF CURIOSITIES. Most of the other patches seem to be organizations and slogans Caduceus doesn’t quite get, but will ask about later. Someone’s taken a purple washable marker and colored in unintelligible words, unidentifiable animals. Someone’s taken the time to sew layers upon layers of craft thread into one shoulder, making a pretty rainbow.

  
Caduceus lifts it to eye level. There are many dimensions to this he’s missing, still. He glances about at the other patrons subconsciously.

  
He wants this. Something seem to sprout between his fingers, in his mind. There is a history here he can’t name.There is a grave here he can’t read. It’s his, now. He’ll do something good with it.

  
Caduceus finds the rest of a summery outfit and takes his time. He finds a chipped mug, too, and a nice wooden music box that would make a good present. On the way out, he donates most of his old scarves. They’ll go to someone who needs them. The jacket costs three dollars.

  
It’s so soft in his gentle hands. It’s so warm on his back.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me at criticaldemiplane.tumblr.com. thank you for reading


End file.
